Sandglass
by Spadefire
Summary: AU. Sometimes in life, we have to make sacrifices. And he'd be lying if he said everything didn't have a cost.


Sandglass

**A/N: AU. Just a little wonderings about the extents of backwards magic, and what happens when you have to make a choice. There's a way we work, y'see, and both of them knew that, knew the sacrifice, but she did it anyway. I think she was trying to prove something, but I can't remember what. Not anymore.**

It was night. Stars sparkled like diamonds in the blanket of velvety black that spanned from horizon to horizon, each one crystal clear this far away from any light pollution. The moon was slowly reaching its full girth, but it's semicircle shape cast more than enough light. The light from the moon and stars dyed the desert sand a deep blue, and if one wanted, they could imagine themselves walking on water instead of earth. Mesas and buttes rose from the ground in various places, towering above the earth in examples of the only things that weren't changed so swiftly. Various desert creatures scuttled and scurried and slithered around the plain, leaving tracks that were wiped away by the winds that constantly kept the scenery moving. It was cold, but if you knew what to wear and how to defend yourself from the various predators that appeared at this time of night, it was perfect for a nice, long walk.

So it wasn't a surprise to see a young man strolling along the sand, eyes turned upwards and hands in his pockets. He wore a thick brown jacket, which had obviously seen better days, but was still intact enough for him to keep the cold out. A flannel shirt and blue jeans were visible, a pair of worn boots scuffing the dirt under his feet. A cowboy hat was perched on his blonde hair, and he paused only to let a scorpion cross his path before continuing on. The light of the moon made his skin turn pale, his clothes and hair all unearthly pastels. He walked in a way that made one think he had no particular place to go, and was walking only for the sake of walking. Had one thought this, they would be wrong.

He reached the edge of one of the lower mesas, running his hand along it. The rock peeled away n certain places, shifting and carving itself to form a staircase. He climbed up, taking his time and being careful not to step on any unwary nocturnal desert-dwellers. He reached the top, sitting on the edge and swinging his legs over the side. The young man placed his index finger and thumb in his mouth and gave a long, high whistle. He stopped, resting his elbows on his knees and slouching forward slightly. A cloud of dust rose up on the horizon, barely visible but quickly growing larger. He smiled softly, unmoving as it got close enough that he could see it more clearly.

It looked like a pack of wild dogs made out of sand, with glowing red eyes, an amalgam of a dozen dogs given form. It wasn't quite translucent, and to anyone else it would've looked like just another dust trail from a motorbike or something; it had the triangular shape of that kind of dust trail. He, however, knew better, and didn't take his eyes off it as it rocketed closer. The dust cloud swiftly made it to the base of the mesa, but instead of dissipating, kept going. It swarmed vertically up the side, the dogs all moving separately but never leaving the conglomerate. The man didn't so much as flinch when it crested the mesa, the dogs whirling around behind him, sniffing and whining quietly.

"Evenin'," he said quietly, a Southern drawl evident in his rich voice. The dogs all ran at one another, pushing and moving up until they formed something new altogether. Where the dogs had once stood was the silhouette of a young woman made of dust and sand, always moving but never vanishing. Her eyes were glowing red, but they were the only feature one could discern. "How ya been?" he asked, not moving from his position on the mesa's edge.

A rasp that might've been words was emitted from the dust creature, a language of the earth that had long been forgotten except to those like him. It seemed to reverberate in the still night air, any living creatures scuttling away in fear of whatever it was that had come to stand by him. He smiled, closing his eyes and staying still. "Good, glad to hear it. An' th' town?" Another rasp, longer this time, another smile. "Heh. Superstitious folk, ain't they? But at least they know yer helpin'."

The creature moved forward, reaching out an appendage that could've been an arm and hand, but stopped just short of touching his shoulder. The young man tilted his head away from the hand, tears beginning to eke out from under his eyelids. "You kin touch me, y'know. Just say th' word an' Ah'll look at ya again." A small, quiet rasp came from the creature as it drew away, taking several steps back. The man shook his head, hands turned to fists. "Ah know. Ah know. But- but it's awful not t'be able t' see you…" A series of short, staccato noises that sounded like sandpapery coughs came from the dust thing, followed by another rasp.

The young man smiled weakly. "Heh. Yeah, I guess that's true. Ah'm kinda th' one that got off easy, huh?" He laughed, and more staccato noises came from the creature. "Cain't be easy fer you, though, huh? Ah- Ah just wish it could've turned out diff'rent. That maybe Ah could be with ya. Ah just wanna see ya again." The last part was a whisper, the creature's eyes going wide and then tilting upwards in a way that made them seem sad. It rasped quietly, turning what seemed to be its head towards the moon.

"Ah would, Ah just- th' others need me," he said quietly, voice cracking. "Ah gotta be th' strong one, even if Ah ain't th' leader." A small rasp made him chuckle and nod slowly. "Yeah, Ah know ya know. It don't make much of a diff'rence, anyway, seein' as how we ain't found th' new Dragons yet." He was quiet for another moment, then looked up at the stars. Their reflections gleamed in his bright blue eyes, and the creature moved forward slightly but stopped itself before moving into his field of vision. "Ah ain't givin' up on ya yet, though. So you just hold tight, okay? We'll getcha outta this mess an' back to th' way ya were." The creature glanced down at its hands, then looking away in something akin to self-loathing and disgust.

"Are- have ya seen yerself? Kin ya tell me what ya look like?" Silence was nearly tangible for a moment, and then the creature kneeled down, long, low rasps emitted from it. The young man sat in silence as the creature 'spoke', listening and soaking in every word. It was a language only a few understood, but he had known it forever, since his first day on the earth. He had always had a way with earth itself, and that had followed him all his life, so it seemed only natural that he was one of the few that understood it. Once the dust creature had finished, he nodded, letting the tears make cool paths down his face.

"Ah see," he whispered. "It- it don't change anythin', y'know. You'll always be beautiful. No matter what, y'hear? No matter what." The creature nodded, shaking slightly. "Ah ain't givin' up on ya, like Ah said. Ah'm always gonna be here when ya need me, and someday, Ah'm either gonna bring you back to th' way ya were or…" he trailed off, then looked at his hands. Large and strong, calloused from years spent n a farm and, later, fighting. They were shaking like a child about to get a shot. He glanced up at the moon, fighting back tears when he saw that it was beginning to set. "Ah guess ya gotta go now, huh?" The creature rasped something soft and pained, nodding even though he couldn't see it. "Right. Ah'll see ya again next month, okay? Same time, same place?" The creature rasped once more. "Good. Ah… Ah love you, Emma."

The creature closed its eyes and began to float upwards, shifting and merging with the air until it became a dust cloud once more. But a pair of red eyes looked back down on the young man as he walked away, and a gleaming white tear fell to the ground, soaking into the desert sand. The man walked back down the staircase, hands in his pockets once more, mesa reforming behind him. He looked so broken, so alone that all the creature wanted to do was walk beside him, talk with him, hold him again. But she couldn't, so she didn't, because she would never subject him to what she was. No matter how much he was willing to sacrifice, no matter how much either of them wanted it, she would not make him pay the cost she did. Not now, not ever. But that didn't mean it didn't hurt, and that didn't mean she couldn't be completely honest with him…

_"I love you too, Clay."_


End file.
